


Day 8. Scorched

by Munnin



Series: Fictober [8]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: war related violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 14:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Every battle leave scars. Not all of them visible.





	Day 8. Scorched

Being on the receiving end of a Force push was not unlike riding a speeder into durasteel wall at full speed. 

But it wasn’t half as bad as the wave of heat that hit us just as we fell into the mine. I landed wrong, rolling over and over like a hoopbug till I hit something hard and stopped.

I thought at first, I’d blacked out. Then I thought my HUD had failed. 

Then I realised I couldn’t see because it was pitch black and there was nothing to see. 

The mine entrance was blocked with something, something big, enough to close the whole entrance. The only light was the glow around the edges of the entrance as metal struts cooled from white hot to red to orange. 

“Sound off.” The sergeant coughed, sounding like was rattling in his chest.

One by one my squad sounded off by name, making jokes as best we could. We were shinnies, fresh out of basic. None of us knew now to process this.

“Jak, flat as a tack.”  
“Opi, medium rare.”   
“Eco, lost my bucket. Again.”

There was an awkward pause where Zen should have been. And wasn’t.

I cleared my throat and spoke my turn. “Tone, can’t see a thing, Sarg.”

There were two more awkward silences, one after me and one after Sok. 

Kean and Del were gone too. 

Sergeant Crue got the light on the side of his bucket working and we all groaned and flinched away. After the almost pure darkness, the hard-white light of his bucket torch was blinding. 

It shed light on two things. 

The fact there was no sign of our fallen brothers. 

And Jedi Commander Ten’th Jarin.

Padawan Jarin. 

Sitting cross-legged and facing away from us. Staring at the blocked entryway. 

“Commander?” Crue called he helped Eco to his feet. 

“She’s dead.” The boy’s answer was flat and emotionless. No, not emotionless. Overwhelmed with emotion. To the point it made him numb. “I can’t feel her anymore.”

“General Sha’lla knew what she was doing.” The sergeant went on, running the torch over my face and neck. 

I had burns. I knew that much. I could smell my own flesh but I couldn’t feel it. For now, I was as numb as the padawan. Which might have been for the best. Only it wasn’t.

Sok tapped me on the shoulder and pressed an injector to the side of my neck. The feeling was like instant cold, flowing down my shoulder. Didn’t do anything for the damage but it would stop me from feeling it. At least for a while. 

“How can you know that?” The padawan demanded, getting to his feet. “You didn’t know her!”

Sok loaded up another shot and handed it to Crue, giving the sergeant a meaningful nod. The young Bith was in shock and libel to lash out. 

“She knew we couldn’t get away from that fire-rider in time.” Crue went on, keeping his voice level. “That’s why she pushed us in here and closed the door. To protect us. To protect you.” He moved closer to the Jedi padawan, who still faced the door. 

“But she didn’t protect us. She trapped us.” The boy’s voice was petulant now, rubbing his hand across his face to brush away tears. “She left me here. She abandoned me.”

“She saved you.” Crue answered, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, turning him around.

It was then that it occurred to the sergeant that Bith don’t cry. They didn’t have tear ducts.

The padwan’s face was scorched; his large, liquid eyes clouded and bleeding.

“Sok. Medpack. Now.” Crue’s dropped to one knee, focusing his light on the damage. 

“Don’t bother.” Jarin shrugged him off. “Bacta has no effect on Bith.” He sat back down, legs crossed and facing the door. “The last thing I’ll ever see was my master, throwing me away.”

Sok changed the shot in the injector and pressed it to the Jarin’s neck, supporting the padawan as the sedatives took effect. 

“How do we get out?” Opi asked, shaking off his melted vambrace and gloves. 

“We don’t.” I answered, borrowing the sergeant’s light. “The heat fused the ore laden stone to the entrance frame. Even with what’s left in the blasters, we can’t open this.”

“Then we set up the emergency beacon and wait for help.” Crue sighed with finality. “Pool your resources. We’ll make do with what we’ve got.”

It was three days before we were rescued. 

On the medic’s orders we kept Jarin sedated, a strip of his robes over his eyes, kept moist by the last of our hydro. It was all we could do to help him. 

The one time Sok let him come back to full consciousness, he struck out, throwing Eco and me against the wall before clawing at his damaged eyes, making them bleed again. 

After that, it seemed best to keep him under.

We spent what was to be our last day in the mine in darkness as the last functioning powerpack gave out. 

The light stung my eyes as the stone was ripped away under the combined Force strength of General Kenobi, General Skywalker, and Commander Tano.

On the plateau where General Sha’lla made her last stand there was nothing but ash.

All that was left of her was ash, and a single green kyber crystal. 

I scooped it up as we double-timed dejectedly to the LAAT, following the hover-stretcher. 

A few steps further up the slope was more ash, and puddles of melted duroplast. We’d never know if it had been Zen, Kean and Del.

All we knew was this hollowed out rock of a world had been lost to the Separatists when the fire-riders had turned on the Republic troops. That we were the only survivors.

An entire company. One hundred and forty-four troopers. Nothing but ashes.

Only seven of us survived. 

Six troopers and one padawan.

As we settled in for take-off, I tucked the little green crystal into Jarin’s unmoving hand, closing his fingers around it. 

Maybe it would help him. Maybe with the crystal, her spirit would stay with him. 

I don’t know how these things work. 

I’m just a trooper.

**Author's Note:**

> Josh is a wonderful beta and I really appreciate his help!


End file.
